


Gone Missing

by JanetBrown711



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: F/M, Hospitalization, Kidnapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 18:16:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17903123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JanetBrown711/pseuds/JanetBrown711
Summary: One morning, Webby wakes up alone and wonders where her husband could be.Many years post canon. Contains one of my ocs. Basically, Webby and Louie are married, Webby is a spy working for SHUSH, and Dewey is a pilot. Already posted most of it to tumblr but i thought i should post it here.





	1. Chapter 1

Webby woke up alone, which was odd. She sat up in her bed and felt for the warmth of Louie's body in the mattress but felt nothing. She frowned. Did he not come home last night? She could've sworn she had felt him climb into bed. It wasn't like him to do that. Was yesterday's quarrel really that bad? It didn't seem that serious. Maybe he just... got caught up in something.

She swung her feet off the bed, put on a robe, and walked into the kitchen. She muttered to herself as she started making her coffee for the day. She muttered to herself when a white folded piece of paper by the table caught her attention. Slowly she went to it.

The card was folded upright and said "Webby" in Louie's handwriting. Webby twisted her wedding ring anxiously as she picked it up and brought it to where she was making coffee.

She opened it and it read:

"Webby,

 **K** indly and humbly **I** offer this note as an explanation as to my whereabouts. **D** on'tblame yourself for this but i have left you. I will **N** ever return. **A** fter today i am leaving Duckburg. **P** lease understand me when i say to not blame yourself and that I'm sorry if I hurt you. **P** lease. **E** ven though you technically started this, just ask **D** ewey. **B** y all honesty, i don't know why he agrees with me. **Y** our best friend! **F** or what? **O** nly he knows i guess. Dewey is a mystery. Seriously, **W** hat are we gonna do with him. **L** iterally nothing.

Anyway, dont come looking for me because i don't want you to find me.

Kindly, 

Louie Duck,"

Webby sat there for a long time, the news weighing on her. The quarrel was that serious then. Enough to... push him over the edge. To make him leave? No... no.... that couldn't be it. She didn't believe what she was reading.

No. 

She couldn't believe it. 

That in all seriousness could not be it. 

She looked over the note again and saw that Louie had bolded certain letters in each sentence. She got out a mini pad and pencil and put it together.

K-I-D-N-A-P-P-E-D-B-Y-F-O-W-L

Webby's eyes widened with fear and then with anger. FOWL really had another thing coming if they thought they could mess with her man. Furiously, she took the note and sent out a signal to her mission leader that she had a mission of her own to go to and quickly started packing her things. Then she messaged Dewey, keeping details as vague as possible. He said he would come by with the plane soon. Good.

Poor Louie. Who knows what type of conditions he's in now. He could be seriously hurt. That was the last thing she wanted. Well... not the last thing... but a close second.

Webby walked into Louie's office and saw the horrific mess of what happened. The window was shattered and clearly some amount of struggle happened as papers and even some feathers were left on the ground. Most were white but one green feather caught her eye. She picked it up and scowled.

Turaco. Her largest threat and longest enemy.

She examinded his chair, still upright but saw several circular scratches on the arm showing he was handcuffed to it as he wrote the card. She went out the second door and saw the back door was left open all night. That must've been where they took him.

"Oh you are so going down!" Webby's nostrils flared as she swore her revenge. If they did so much as give him a paper cut they were all going to pay.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Dewey was at Scrooge's. Webby grabbed her bag of gear and headed off to the mansion, not needing the coffee she made since her anger was now acting as her fuel.

She arrived in ten minutes. Dewey was talking to Scrooge on the lawn. They both looked like they were talking about something serious.

"Oh hey Webby," Dewey noticed her, "you ready to go? What's the bag for?"

"I said no questions, and yes," Webby glared at him.

"What're ye up to las?" Scrooge was suspicious of her.

"It's important. Very important," Webby said.

"Yew can just tell me ye know," Scrooge frowned.

"If i did you'd come along," Webby threw her bag into the plane. The old man shook his head.

"Well I wish you two luck anyway. Hope ye find what yeer looking for," Scrooge said.

"Me too," Webby sighed. Scrooge examinded her up and down with an eyebrow raised, but said nothing of it.

"Be safe," he waved off and went inside.

"Where are we going?" Dewey asked. Webby wrote down coordinates on a piece of paper and handed it to him.

"Brazil? Okay then," Dewey punched in the numbers to the plane. Webby sat in the copilot seat and drummed her fingers on the steering handles.

"Okay Webby... what are we really heading to?" Dewey noticed her anxiety.

"I can't tell you either," Webby brushed him off.

"Why? I'm the one taking you there," Dewey frowned. Webby sighed.

"Fine. We're going to FOWL's Brazilian headquarters but you cannot come along and you cannot say a word to anyone," Webby huffed.

"See? Was that so hard?" Dewey started up the engine, "What's the mission about?"

"That's confidential," Webby looked away from him. Dewey rolled his eyes and decided not to question her any further.

"Okay, off to Brazil we go... i guess."


	2. Louie's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louie wakes up barely remembering what had just happened, and not knowing where he was.

Louie found himself in a dark and damp room with a pounding headache and drowsiness that went to his bones. He didn't know where he was or how he got there. He tried to move his wrists but found they were tied to a chair. His ankles were also in the same condition.

"So you're awake now. That was slow," a female voice spoke from the darkness. It was low and scratchy, like she had needed a cough drop for days but hadn't recieved one.

"What can i say? I'm a chronic sleeper," Louie tried to shrug, but the restraints made it difficult.

"You're a funny boy," the voice was amused.

"Most say," he said.

"I see why she likes you," there was a thud to the ground and he saw a vague silhouette of his captor. A mohawk, and a giant fur coat. He couldn't see anything else in the darkness.

She. 

"She! What did you do to her?!" Louie had to catch himself from saying her name. Every agent at SHUSH had their code names. He didn't know hers, he just knew she had one.

"Oh nothing yet, but we'll be seeing your Webbigail soon enough," the voice chuckled.

"How do you know her name?" Louie raised an eyebrow. The voice just laughed.

"We aren't as weak as we used to be. FOWL has really risen in recent years. Tracking people isn't nearly as difficult as it once was, but that's none of your buisness," he could tell she was smiling.

"Well what's your name? Are you related to Red Heron?" Louie questioned her.

"Goodness no. Why would i tell you that? If i did well, I'd have to kill you. Oh wait... I'm going to anyway," she cackled like a witch. Louie promptly started to try and get his wrists out of their confinements but it was solid steel handcuffs.

"Last name is Turaco. No need for a first name for now. I'm keeping you alive until Webbigail comes to find you," Turaco said.

"That could be days. Do you even know how annoying i could get? Just ask anyone i know and they'll say I'm the worst to hang out with," he pretended like he was Dewey.

"Funny," she either didn't believe or didn't care.

"Why would you kidnap people? People are so needy. Soon enough I'm gonna be hungry or need the bathroom," Louie said.

"I'm aware," Turaco moved to a table and picked up something sharp and shiny. Presumably a knife. Louie more urgently tried to find his way out of the cuffs.

"Don't bother trying to escape. Its not going to work, and I'm not going to hurt you anyway," the sound of the scraping of wood echoed and Louie sighed a breath of relief.

"I still wouldn't be completely relaxed though. Something tells me your little wifey is already on her way." Louie frowned and tried to think of a plan.

"Plus, who is to say this is my carving knife. Maybe it's my cutting knife meant to slice and dice only my favorite victims who have hurt me the most. Maybe it is my killing knife. Then again, maybe it is just a carving knife," Turaco waved it around, but it was still near impossible to see the shadows. He must've had some sort of spotlight on him

"You're really dramatic you know that?" He huffed.

"Dramatic? Ha! Tell that to the woman who took my eye!" Turaco snarled and stepped into the light.

Her feathers were green but her cheeks were white like bones. One eye was perfectly fine but the other glowed bright red and a scar surrounded it. Must've been wearing an eyepatch earlier. She might've been a little bit beautiful if it weren't for the gruesome scars. Clearly, she was mad about it.

"Geez that thing is ugly. When did that happen?" Louie asked.

"One year ago today," she grinned a yellow and decaying smile. God, she was ugly.

"Ah... i see," Louie closed his eyes to try and get the image out of his head but it was now etched into his brain. Maybe for life. Perhaps that was why she wore the giant fur coat.

How come i didn't see er... notice your appearance earlier?" He asked.

"Wore a mask and complete black. Attacking in the dead of night helps too. I do my best not to be noticed," she complimented herself, "but enough about my appearance," Turaco grabbed a wooden club when had been carving with the knife. If it weren't a weapon for his pain, he might have said it was fine woodmanship.

"Look, before you do anything you should know that Webby can and will destroy you if you even mess with the face," Louie's voice faltered through his mask of fake confidence.

"Oh the face? I'll keep that in mind," she grinned again. Louie scrambled to find something else to say.

"Are you sure you know who you're messing with?" He asked.

"Of course. She is the agent assigned to me," she stated the obvious. Louie baffled at his own stupidity.

"You would think I'd know that," Louie said.

"I think you ought to know a lot things," Turaco stepped into the light again.

"Like?" He asked.

"Like when talking is gonna help, and when it's only gonna hurt you," she got uncomfortably close.

"What do you-" was all he managed to say when he felt a giant whack to the head and he passed out.


	3. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dewey catches wind of what Webby isn't telling him

**Dewey's POV**

The plane ride was six unbearable hours of very little conversation between the two best friends. Webby kept her mouth sealed shut and after the first hour of trying to pry, Dewey just learned to shut up, which was rare for him. That being said it was obvious that Webby was getting more and more anxious over something of clear importance, but she refused to let him know what. All he knew was that one, it wasn't an official SHUSH mission or they would've sent her on their own transportation, and two, it was in Brazil of all places. And she said he couldn't get off the plane.

Clearly, this was something dead serious and personal. Otherwise he'd be home to Duckburg to celebrate him and his bros birthday like they do every year. They were often the biggest parties Duckburg had all year since they've saved the town so many times (plus Dewey had his fair share of connections (Louie did too, and probably more, but that's not important)). He was excited to be home and relax but duty calls he guessed.

"I'm gonna change into my gear," Webby excused herself from the co pilot seat and grabbed her duffle bag of gear and went to the restroom. That was the first change they had in two hours. Dewey hated it, but was quickly distracted when he got a text.

 **Huey:** ' _Hey have you seen Louie at all? He was supposed to meet me to talk decorations'_

Dewey rolled his eyes.

' _Maybe he's just late. You know how he gets.'_

 **Huey:** ' _he's three hours late. I'm at his house and no one's home. I think something might've happened._

' _Are you sure?_ '

Dewey waited an eerie five minutes for a response. His mind raced to what could've happened, though he reminded himself that the chances were pretty slim and that he should probably stay focused on flying.

 **Huey:** ' _someone broke into their house_ '

' _Wtd?! Any sign of him anywhere?'_

Dewey waited more nervously for the reply, which took what felt like forever.

 **Huey:** ' _Louie's been kidnapped by FOWL_ '

Dewey felt the color drain from his face. He set his phone down as quietly as possible and processed the facts.

"Sorry that took so long. We should be almost there though," Webby had come back, her hair now tied into a high ponytail and in her proper spy equipment.

It clicked. 

"Wait... we're going to FOWL headquarters?" Dewey asked.

"That is what i said," Webby was already preparing to say nothing of the details, but now he knew and now he was mad.

"Webby, i just got a text from Huey saying that he went to your place and found out that Louie had been kidnapped by FOWL," Dewey kept his face forward, but he saw Webby stiffen from the corner of his eye.

"Why did he go to my place?" Webby asked, her voice overly calm clearly masking a sense of nervousness and panic she wanted to hide.

"Louie was supposed to help for the party on Saturday. Webby, what the hell?!" Dewey turned on auto pilot.

"Hey! I do what i can to protect who i can," Webby was quick to defend herself.

"Yeah but seriously! What the hell?! He's my _little brother!_ I deserve to know and help save him from danger!" Dewey raised his voice.

"I don't need you to get involved. This is between me and Turaco okay?! Not everything is about you okay? Gah-" webby stood up and walked away in frustration.

"'Dont need me to get involved?!' Webby this my brother. My family!" Dewey jumped up.

"Well he's my husband," she clenched her fists.

"So?! Webby, i don't care! He's my little brother, my responsibility and i will help you save him whether you want me to or not!"

Silence fell over the plane. Dewey sat himself back down while Webby just stayed standing and facing away from him.

"Dewey, i don't need you getting hurt too," she muttered.

"That isn't your decision to make. I have a right to help you save him too," Dewey glanced back at her but she still hadn't turned. Another long pause of dreadful tension. They would have to land soon. Their destination was roughly ten minutes away flying distance.

"I just..." Webby took a deep breath in, then out. Her voice was quivering, like she had cried. "I just don't want you hurt too because of me."

Dewey sighed and got up to go to her. "Webby, you know plenty well i can take care of myself," he made her chuckle a bit.

"Look... maybe I'll just resign to backup if that makes you feel any better," Dewey said. Another pause.

"Okay," she finally said, turning around and looking him in the eye.

"Good," he smiled weakly and went back tot he seat, "we're gonna land soon. You should take your seat again." Webby obeyed and buckled in as Dewey landed in a plane nearest to where the coordinates were. When they landed Webby got up and got put gear that Dewey could use, but he already had good enough things on his own.

"If anything goes wrong I'll text you the code word "X". That means you should come. "Y" means get the plane ready for our escape and "F" means we're screwed and you should run. Hopefully that won't need to be used, heh," she tried to make the joke feel light but the situation was anything but that.

"Okay," Dewey just kinda accepted it, "be careful, alright?" He asked.

"Only if you will be," again she tried to joke but it fell even more flat. They shared a look of sympathy, worry, concern, and anxiety all mixed into one.

Webby really had no clue what she was jumping into. She didn't know if Louie was alive or unharmed, if it was all a trap or if they're even at this specific location. There were so many possible outcomes and all of them seemed awful in one way or another.

"Look Webby," Dewey placed his hands on her shoulders, "you are the strongest woman i know. You got this. Now go save my brother," he gave a crooked smile. Webby felt herself relax a little bit.

"Yeah, you're right. I've delt with this whackadoo enough times to handle it," Webby smirked, "now if you'll excuse me, i have some butt to kick," Webby cracked her knuckles and headed out of the plane.

She was now ready to go teach Turaco what happened when you messed with the wrong family.


	4. The Misson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Webby goes to save Louie from her worst enemy

Webby walked out of the plane and headed straight into the forest that wad to the west of the plain where they had landed. She knew exactly where she was going and had no hesitation in her steps. She knew what she was doing. She knew what was going to happen.

After ten minutes she approached what appeared to be a tree plant overrun by vines but she knew better than that. She entered the door but to her surprise no alarm went off. No killer robots, no lasers, no poisonous gases. Just silence. An uncomfortable and uncommon silence. She didn't like that at all.

To fight against it, she found an air vent on the ground and crawled into the system and began to search her way around. She knew the facility fairly well. This was Turaco's number one spot. Stay close to home she guessed.

As she traveled and traveled through the vents there was almost no conversations at all. It seemed like maybe the place truly was abandoned. Maybe she went to the wrong place. Maybe if they weren't here, they weren't anywhere. Maybe she'd never find them. Maybe he'd be dead before she ever could.

No. No, no, no. Webby had to stop herself from panicking. She had to be focused. She couldn't panic. Not now. She needed to continue her search.

She made more and more turns and eventually found herself at a dead end, which she hadn't remembered existing before. Just as she was going to maneuver a u-turn, the vent dropped out from under her and she landed on the ground with a thud. Slowly, she picked herself up only to see she was in a room with charging robots and two chairs. A spotlight was on her and she could not see the silhouettes in the seat but as her eyes focused she saw a red flash come to life and knew instantly.

"Look who could finally join the party," Turaco stepped forward.

"Where is he?" Webby glared at her. If it weren't for the wind just being knocked out of her and the army of robots she would've pinned her to the ground to ask.

"Right on the top platform in that chair," Turaco referenced back and behind her but she couldn't get a good glimpse of him.

"Let him go. He has nothing to do with you and me," Webby said.

"He matters to you which means he matters to me," the villainess snarled, but quickly composed herself.

"I suppose... there is a trade off we could do," Turaco snapped her fingers and one of the rusty machines came to life and brought a chair and desk for her.

"What kind of trade off," Webby didn't even hesitate.

"The kind where i trade his life for yours. Is that a deal?" Her voice was disgustingly slimy. Webby hesistated.

"Why?" She demanded.

"I'm not accepting questions. Yes or no?" Turaco snapped. Webby reached in her pocket and sent "X" for backup without looking at her phone.

"What if i rescue him in the next five minutes? How about that?" Webby asked.

"You? Against an entire army of robots?" She cackled no differently than a witch, "be my guest," the desk and table were taken away and the green bird dusted her fur coat off.

"You accept?" Webby didn't think it'd be that easy.

"Sure. Go wild," Turaco smiled. The first bad sign, but it was too late to turn back now. Turaco left the room and pushed a red button in her hand that made all of the many robots eyes flash red and look to her. When that happened the spotlight went down but she heard someone fall onto the ground behind her.

"Dewey?" Webby didn't move a muscle when asking.

"Yeah," he grunted in pain.

"Don't move," she commanded. The robots gaze had not moved and there were so many more than she remembered. She saw the silhouette of what must've been a tied up Louie all the way on the top platform as she did her best to calculate a plan for the least amount of pain possible, which was near impossible in all the darkness.

All of the sudden, loud alarm sounded and all the robots started attacking. Dewey and Webby both sprung to action as they used their weapons to knocks heads off and/or stab them through completely left and right, one after the other.

Webby would flip them over and jump from one to another, climbing higher and higher until she used her grappling hook and shot it to Louie. She zipped past many of the machines as they tried to catch her but she was too fast and soon she was there.

"Louie!" She called out. He didn't respond. He must've been gagged and tied to the chair. Quickly she went and untied his wrists and ankles from the chair when the lights went up and the alarm silenced. She looked at who she was untying and saw it was a decoy. She jumped back in horror as she heard Turaco's cruel laughter.

"You pretty, pretty fool," she entered the room again. Webby jumped to the ledge of the platform.

"Where is he?!" She shouted. Dewey looked up at her, then at Turaco and immdietly ran to attack. A robot grabbed him and held him still.

"Come with me," Turaco gestured with two fingers and and left the room, but Dewey's captor robot went the other way. Webby trusted Dewey could escape on his own and used her grappling hook to follow Turaco.

She led Webby down dark hallways that she had never been. They had to have been new, but their lights flashed on and off and some wires had come loose. It seemed intentional though, like they had done it to set a "villainous" atmosphere. Finally, she stopped in front of a door.

"He's in here," Turaco stepped aside.

"You aren't going to fight me?" Webby asked.

"Not you no. I'll be with my guest. Your job is to find him in a couple minutes or else you're both dead," the villain smiled. God, Webby wanted to punch her in her hideous teeth, but she knew it'd be no use and probably pretty painful. Her knuckles were bruises from punching all the metal.

"You have seven minutes now," Turaco opened the door and shoved Webby in.

Mirror maze.

It was a mirror maze.

"Louie!!!" Webby called out. She looked at the mirrors, her reflections making her already feel dizzy.

"Webby!!!" She heard his cry for help. She ran forward but ran smack dab into a mirror. She cursed and looked the other way and saw more of herself but in some mirrors she saw his.

"Louie! I see you!" Webby said.

"I see you too. Please come get me," he pleaded. Webby nodded and moved forward in the maze. The deeper she got in the more confusing it was.

There weren't edges or clear borders on any of the mirrors so everything just meshed together. Sometimes she swore she saw the real him but she would just run into other reflection. The trap was psychotic.

"Three minutes," suddenly, Turaco appeared next to Louie, a knife in her hand. Webby's eyes widened as she began moving faster and faster, but to her distress it seemed the deeper she got in the less she law their reflection. In an act of frustration, distress, and anger she took her grappling hook shattered the mirror closest to her, then the one next to her which showed nothing. To her surprise, it had wires.

It wasnt a mirror.

It was a screen.

This was another diversion.

"One minute left," Turaco's image flashed on only a few of the screens but Webby knew better than to go deeper. She took her grappling hook and shot straight up, taking her to the ceiling where she punched a tile loose and not herself up there.

"So you figured it out..." Turaco stepped forward.

"I ask you one more time... where is Louie?" Webby got out her dagger. Turaco only chuckled. Webby could no longer contain her anger and she attacked furiously.

It was all a familiar tango. She blocked her attacks and she blocked hers. It was maddening like the mirrors had been. When she grew tired of the same moves she took her dagger and stabbed her bionic eye once again. Turaco shrieked.

"WHERE IS LOUIE?!" Webby pinned her to the ground.

"You're almost too late anyway! He's almost dead because of YOU! You simply had to refuse the trade didn't you!" She tried to cackle, but she was running out of breath due to Webby's foot on her chest.

"Liar!" Webby denied her

"I speak the truth," her enemy gave her pathetic and crooked smile. Webby grabbed her dagger from her glitching and sparking eye, sliced her face to give another scar ran out of the room before she could react and stop her.

The hallways now were labeled with exit signs and where every room was. Webby ran down the halls. She knew where Turaco liked to keep her prisoners. She turned the corner and burst into the holding cell and quickly destroyed the guard bot and turned to see Dewey holding Louie's weak and limp body.

Webby eyes froze and she felt Dewey look at her.

"You need to open the cell," he instructed her. Webby forced her gaze off of her husband and burst the cell open. Dewey stood up while still holding his brother and they bolted down the halls.

"Follow me. I know the way out," Webby said, not willing herself to look back. They needed to make it out. They needed to make it out.

They turned many corners and Webby had to shoot down many bots but soon, they were free to run into the forest. They ran as fast as they could through the winding trees to where they thought the plane was. It was so confusing though. Her lungs soon started to feel sharp pains and her pace slowed, but she kept going.

They had to make it.

They had to make it.

"Webby! I see the Selene Chaser up ahead!" Dewey referred to his plane. Webby looked ahead and saw the familiar blue plane. She forced herself to pick up her pace once more, but now her ankles started to throb with every step. She held back tears as she ran, and ran, and ran ahead.

Finally, they arrived there. It was left unlocked so Webby quickly entered and got out the first aide kitts while Dewey set his weak brother on a cot. Webhy got everything and carefully took off his torn and blood soaked sweatshirt and gasped.

He had everything from scratches from her dagger, to cigar burns to bruises all over his chest. His left arn was clearly broken and he clearly lost a large amount of blood.

"Nearest SHUSH hospital," Webby commanded, blinking away tears as she started to clean his wounds best she could.

"I don't know where that is Webby-" Dewey was interrupted by Webby tossing a notepad with coordinates at him. Dewey immediately punched it and they headed off into the air.

"Webby..." Louie's voice was weak. Webby didn't hesitate and kissed him passionately.

"I love you," Webby said.

"I love you..." Louie started to close his eyes.

"No! No no no! Stop! It's g-gonna be okay you need to stay awake," Webby said.

"You're bleeding..." he remarked weakly. Webby looked down and saw she was, but she didn't care.

"I am keeping you alive, just please... please stay with me," she held his hands.

"Your knuckles are bruised," he noted again.

"Please Louie," she couldn't stop her tears now.

"It's ten minutes away," Dewey said. Webby stayed focus on her husband.

"You think you can last ten minutes?" She sniffled. Louie grunted and he closed his eyes.

"Louie?LOUIE!!!"


	5. Strong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dewey's POV of the rescue mission to save his brother

"You pretty, pretty fool," Dewey looked up from decapitating a robot with his bare hands. He looked around him and saw the robots stopped attacking.

"Where is he?!" He looked up and saw Webby didn't have Louie. He looked at the woman she was shouting to. She was vile and cruel in every definition so he didn't hesistate to lunge at her. As he did however he felt metal arms grab and restrain him.

"Come with me," The nasty woman gestured to Webby and walked away but unfortunately the robot took him another direction. He got one glance at Webby before she vanish from his sight as he was led to many poorly lit and up kept hallways.

"Let me go you chuck of led! I can and will destroy you! Where is my brother?!" Dewey tried his best to squirm himself free but it did little to fix any problems.

"You know, this really isn't my day," Dewey sighed. Since his robot captor said nothing he decided now was just an all around good time to vent.

"I mean to start, my best friend hits me up at like... 9 am and says i need to bring my plane which means i have to style my hair and outfit in three minutes instead of an hour and half. Then i find out the mission we're on is to save my kidnapped brother? Whaaaaat??? Yeah, it's wild. So anyway me and Webs get into a big fight and then next thing ya know, she calls for backup and I'm here. In this giant robots arms. Where did the time go," Dewey shook his head. The robot still didn't utter a word. Dewey suddenly wondered if it even had the capacity to.

After he finished his story he was thrown into a dark and dusty cell room very rudely.

"Hey you jerk! Why don't you tell me where my brother is!" Dewey got up and grabbed the bars. His captor stared at him and left, another bot replacing him, but this one could talk. Ugh.

"Llewellyn is with Mistress," they said his brother's full name. It was disgusting and uncomfortable to say the least.

"Give him back to me!" Dewey glared.

"Oh he'll be back very soon," it said, not giving a crap. Now Dewey wished it didn't talk. They were jerks.

"And just so you know, only I can says his full name jerk face," Dewey crossed his arms and sat down on the ground. He observed his area and tried to concoct a plan to escape but he knew he had to wait for Louie. He couldn't leave until he had Louie or knew that Webby did.

He had to be safe and accounted for.

He had to.

Dewey didn't know what he would do if he had to go home empty handed.

"Why so quiet?" It mocked in its perfectly bland robotic voice.

"Shut up," Dewey crossed his arms. He tried to shut up his mind of thinking what could happen to Louie. Louie didn't even know how to defend himself. He always refused to, the lazy idiot. Now it was gonna get him ki- hurt. It was going to get him hurt. His laziness was going to get him hurt and nothing else.

Yup. 

As if on cue though, another mechanic guard came and tossed his brother into the cell with him.

"Only i get to toss my brother! You hear me!" Dewey shouted at the leaving guard. The one stationed at the cell laughed at him. Damn if he didn't hate this place.

"Dewey..." a soft voice came from behind him. Dewey spun around and saw Louie in the worst condition he had ever seen him in his life. It was horrifying. He didn't think he would ever see anything worse than him almost freezing to death but...

His favorite green hoodie from his college was torn up and was blood soaked. He could see burn marks through the tears in the hoodie and he was bruised all over, especially the back of the head. Plus, one of his arms was broken.

"Louie," Dewey went to him. Louie grunted and tried to pick himself up, so Dewey helped sit him up straight.

"Wh-what- h-how did this happen?" Dewey asked, too upset to try to hide his emotional voice crack.

"Turaco... is a jerk," he coughed as he tried to laugh.

"Where does it hurt?" Dewey pretended that he knew more than just two classes of first aid training.

"Everywhere," his voice was getting weaker by the second.

"I'm going to make her pay for what she's done to you," he muttered under his breath, "Louie listen to me: Webby is almost here. She's looking for you and it's gonna be okay. You'll be home soon and we can celebrate all of our birthdays together, you got that?" Dewey asked. Louie gave a heavy huff of air which Dewey assumed was his way of laughing or his struggle to breathe

"Webby... needs to get safe. Don't let her trade," louie pointed at him.

"She already refused. She's coming real soon, just... just hold on okay?" Dewey said. Louie was just getting more and more pale and sluggish. It was horrible. 

"Dew... I'm bleeding... a lot," he started to slump over so Dewey laid him down on his lap and scrambled for a resolution.

"Look, i-i know you're bleeding a-and in pain a-and well- but look, i-it's gonna be okay because it's always okay! Okay? We're gonna go home and it'll all be a distant nightmare," Dewey pushed reality away.

"Nightmare," Louie shivered.

"I know you have a bad history with them but... it won't be real. It'll be okay," Dewey said.

"Kill me," Louie grabbed his shirt.

"What?! No!" Dewey made him let go.

"I don't want it. I dont want... the suffering," Louie didn't stop shivering this time.

"Louie, it's going to be okay! Okay?! You will recover and you will be okay and you will get through this because... because you have to dammit!" Dewey felt himself start to let go. Louie groaned softly. Dewey slammed his eyes shut and forced his tears to go away.

"No... no, that's not fair. Look... you may be and idiot and that might have been the dumbest thing I've ever heard you say so... so i refuse to let you. You are going to live and be fine and... and be happy and not die. Not on my watch," Dewey forced himself to be calm. His mind started to think of a plan when Webby suddenly burst through the door and took down the guard. Then her eyes met Louie's.

She was immediately overcome with grief, agony, worry, and anxiety all at once. He didn't have time for that. They needed to make it out alive.

"You need to open the cell," he commanded her. He saw her break her gaze and refocus on the escape. She burst the cell open as Dewey picked up his brother and the three of them headed out.

"Follow me: i know the way out," Webby instructed him to follow. No duh. Dewey has literally never been here before. Bah, he didn't have the time to be snarky. He obeyed.

They moved quickly and without hesistation. They turned corner's here and there and Webby did have to take a few guards down like the boss she was and soon they were in the forest. Dewey looked down at Louie to see how he was doing, but his condition was only worsening. His eyes were barely half open and he was as pale as a ghost. He ran faster.

He didn't where they were running or if it was even the right way but they had to keep going. They had to make it. Louie had to make it. He had to. It just couldn't end like this. It couldn't end any other way.

They had to keep going. They had to keep running.

Finally, after he felt like his arms were on fire he finally saw his beautiful blue plane. It glistened against the sunset like the safe haven it was. But he didn't have time. Webby seemed too focused on running to notice she was about to pass it.

"Webby! I see the Selene Chaser ahead!" He called to her. Webby looked, saw it, and ran for it much faster than he could keep up. He left it unlocked incase they needed to get in quickly so Webby got in faster than he did.

While she ran to get first aid kits Dewey sat him down on a cot. As he did he noted how blood soaked his shirt was and made a mental note to swear revenge twice. 

"Its gonna be okay Louie. You're gonna make it," Dewey patted his head before heading off to the cockpit. Webby would take care of him. She knew more first aid than he did.

"Nearest SHUSH hospital," Webby said. Dewey gave a blank stare. Did she forget he wasn't a spy?

"I don't know where that is Webby-" as he spoke she tossed a notepad with coordinates. Quickly he punched them in and took off.

He put on his headphones to give them privacy. What happened between Louie and Webby he didn't need to know. He just needed to stay focused on the destination he wanted to go it. The hospital. A future where his brother didn't die under his protection.

"It's ten minutes away," Dewey said. That was good. He turned on his radio when he heard Webby cry out Louie's name.

He passed out. 

If it wasn't already a life or death emergency in his mind, it sure as hell was now.

"This is Selene Chaser talking to S.H.U.S.H headquarters. I'm here with agent 22.5. We have a wounded agent in desperate need of hospital. Over," he spoke into the radio as he imagined they do.

"22.5 isn't on an offical mission. What reason would she have to be here? Over," a voice called him.

"Husband got kidnapped. Over," he was starting to get really frustrated.

"Who are we speaking to? Over."

"The brother-in-law of 22.5 dammit! Let us in! My brother is dying dang it and i will not let him die because some pricks won't let us into the hospital! Over!" He demanded. There was a long pause of silence. He might've blown it. You really aren't supposed to yell at the people who you want to help you.

"Selene Chaser is given permission to land. Over."

Dewey gave the biggest sigh of relief and he landed on the remote buildings roof. After shutting everything off he picked up his brother away from Webby, who was now hysterical, and handed him over to the hospital people who were waiting with a gurnee. He helped Webby up and they followed the gurnee as far as they could before he was taken into a room they could not follow. They were ushered away by a nurse into a separate room.

The nurse spoke mostly to Webby but he could tell by her glazed over look she wasn't hearing a darn thing she was saying. Neither was he. They didn't care.

What they did care about was on the verge of life and death.

None of the repercussions of their actions mattered so long as he made it out alive, which meant he had to.

Soon though, the nurse left them alone in the room. It was absolutely silent. It was a private hospital after all. Spies only.

God, he hated the silence. It was suffocating and he could tell Webby was feeling it too. Her puffy eyes had appeared to run out of tears and her throat was visually tight. She stared straight forward. Her lips did not tremble, but it wanted to. They wanted to be strong. They didn't realize they didn't have to be anymore.

Dewey put a hand on her shoulder. Webby looked at him.

"Dewey?" 

His lips trembled. His puffy eyes gathered tears. His throat became tight. He stopped being strong. _He_ gave in.

He sobbed. And sobbed. And sobbed. He felt her arms wrap around him but he did not stop crying.

He didn't know what was happening, what did happen or what was going to happen to his brother. It terrified him.

 _"Please stay alive. I need you to be so bad,"_ he thought to himself.

_"I just do."_


	6. Patience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Webby bears with the struggle of not knowing if and when your husband will wake up from a sleep that you're responsible for.

Webby wasn't able to sleep the whole night. The waiting room of the private hospital was utterly silent. It was like the whole world had managed to sleep after the storm, but she kept her eyes wide open.

She would sit down. Glance at her phone twice. Examine a picture of a flower ahead of her. Get up. Pace around three times. Sit. Repeat cycle.

Dewey did his best to be awake and there for her, but he was exhausted from his meltdown. He needed his rest. He was lucky enough to receive his needed slumber. She was not.

At four in the morning a nurse finally came. She held a clipboard tight in her hand. Webby stood when she saw her and woke Dewey up.

"Good or bad news?" Webby asked.

"Both," the woman studied her clipboard.

"The good news is that he is currently in a stable condition. Bad news news is that he has fallen into a coma. We do not know when he will wake up," she simply spoke.

It was like a wave of numbness washed over her. She didn't know whether to thank her, curse her, cry, laugh, or yell. She took a step back, right into Dewey. He touched her shoulders and she remembered she wasn't alone. Thank god.

"Thank you ma'am. Can we see him now?" Dewey asked. Webby nodded.

"Not quite yet. Mind if i ask a few more questions?" The lady directed it at Webby. She still couldn't find words to respond.

"Yes," Dewey continued to speak for her.

"Does he have any other family who would like to visit?" She asked. Dewey nodded. The woman sighed.

"I do hope you know how much more complicated that makes this," she sighed.

"One of his family members is Scrooge McDuck. Im pretty sure he, and by extension they, can keep a secret," Webby's sharp and direct words did seem to change the woman's mind. She nodded.

She continued on with her questions about things like why was he here in the first place, who attacked him, and other such things. Webby looked at her phone the whole time. She never turned it on and left it on the table, but it still haunted her.

She knew what was on the other side. Texts and missed calls from Scrooge, Donald and Huey. All of them angry that Louie is missing and got hurt. Wondering where they were.

Scrooge was a smart man. He could figure out where they were by tracking their devices. No need for all the hasty yell-texting and calls.

Eventually the lady left with no word if they could visit still. The silence and coldness returned quickly. Dewey wrapped his arms around her but she only felt the warmth on her skin, not inside. It was like her heart was covered in ice. The feeling was cold and empty. It hurt to breathe.

Twenty minutes later the silence broke. There was footsteps. Loud voices. Then, a familiar scottish accent.

Scrooge tracked them like she thought he would.

"I don't want to see them Dewey," Webby whispered to him

"They're your family too Webs. They're here to help not blame. Not now," Dewey did his best to assure, but she still wasn't swayed. She wanted to be alone. She wanted Louie.

Eventually Scrooge, Donald and Huey walked into the small waiting room. They looked at Dewey and Webby and they looked back. No body moved for awhile but it only took a moment for Dewey to go to Huey. They hugged each other tightly. They were scared. Of course they were, they had a darn good right to be.

Scrooge looked at Webby, but she looked away. She didn't know why she wanted to push away but she did.

"Lass," he spoke so softly. Webby ignored it still.

"He's in a coma, okay? We can't see him. Not yet. They said he's stable b-but i can't see him. You can't see him so... so leave it alone, okay?" Webby closed her eyes. Silence again.

"Agent?" The woman from before spoke again. Webby looked at her.

"You can see him now," she announced. The others stepped forward, but she shook her head.

"Only her for now," she said. The others backed down and webby followed the woman to the room alone

"He's right in here. When you're ready for others to see him just ring the nurse buttin and I'll let em in okay?" She asked. Webby slowly nodded.

"Thank you miss," she tried to smile.

"No problem," she actually did, but it had a strong look of sad empathy. Webby didn't like it, so she went in.

You know that moment where you only just buckled on the roller coaster but you can feel it start to move? That feeling where you know you are likely to be safe but you didn't test the retains and suddenly you're being jerked at a speed over 30 miles per hour?

That's what seeing Louie again felt like. It felt like being jerked into a present that she hadn't tested her buckles yet. She felt her stomach launch into her ribs. She felt the terror, the horror of such an event.

"L-louie..." Webby ran to him. She knew he wouldn't respond. She placed her hands on his face. It was still warm. He wasn't dead.

"Louie..." she held his hand and saw stitches. She looked to the other one and the arm was in a cast. She kissed both.

"I'm so sorry," she said. She kissed his neck, where a few cigar burns were. She kissed his messy hair. She kissed his forehead. She kissed his cheek. She kissed his lips. She kissed every part of him she wanted to heal.

"I'm so so sorry," after, she placed her hand on his cheek. She whispered several apologies as she started to cry. Once she started, she couldn't stop. She let all of her guilt pour out of her.

She apologized her everything. Every argument, every quibble, every selfish deed, every moment she wasn't with him. She apologized for being a spy. She apologized for having enemies who would want to hurt him.

He didn't wake up. Part of her wanted him to, but he didn't. It made her angry, but she was too exhausted to yell at him for not waking.

Eventually, she climbed onto his bed. She wrapped one of his arms around her and felt his chest rise up and down. She felt his feathers against her own. She felt his pulse, which beat with the rhythm of the monitor. She felt warm again.

She stayed like that for twenty minutes. She rested her head on his chest and felt him breathe. She knew this was most likely a health hazard but it felt good to be in his arms, even if he was asleep.

She was awoken by a knock at the door. She got up calmly and opened the door. The nurse was on the other side.

"Figured you might want something to eat," she held a tray that had an apple, banana, pudding cup, and a bagel. Webby took it graciously.

"Just so you know... those other folks are getting antsy. I'm not pressing you to let him go so soon, just be aware. He doesn't only belong to you," and with that she left. Webby looked back at Louie. He had not moved. She sighed. She ate her banana, then rang for the nurse to let the others in.

First, it was Huey and Dewey, followed by Donald and Scrooge. They came in silently and observed him silently too. Donald stroked his cheek. Huey and Dewey stood on the other side of the bed.

Webby decided it'd be best to stand outside. Scrooge, to her surprise, didn'tgo in, but stayed with her. Webby gazed through the window and he wrapped an arm around her. She looked at him.

"You aren't alone Webby. We all love ye, ye know that, right?" Scrooge said. Webby couldn't get herself to speak. The coldness had returned. She wanted to hold Louie's hand again, but didn't want to disturb Huey and Dewey.

"He'll be alright," Scrooge said to her. Webby slowly nodded, not taking her eyes off of Louie. Scrooge sighed and rubbed her back. It was a nice gesture, but tense back was the least of her problems.

"I know," she mustered the strength to say back.

"He will," Scrooge said. It was quiet again. There was no anger. No quarrel she feared. Maybe there was on her phone, but not now. Not when it mattered.

"I know how you feel lass. So... if ye just... ever need-" Webby interrupted him with a tight hug. She started to tremble. Scrooge was startled but patted her back lovingly.

"It's not yeer fault and it's going to be okay. No matter what happens," he said. She nodded. He was warm too.

"It's going to be okay, no matter the outcome," he stroked her hair. Webby embraced the hug and nodded.

He knew what it was like to get someone you cared about so dearly hurt.

He knew.

Which mean he knew it would be okay.

So it would.

It was going to be okay. 

It was going to be okay. 

Right...?


	7. Lonely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Webby wishes for some alone time with Louie

Three days later, Louie still hadn’t woken up. The situation only felt worse once Webby realized just how small the place was. You could wander the interior for a half hour and end up back where you started. That’s how small and private it was. It drove everyone mad.

Being in a foreign country didn’t help much either. Sure, most everyone spoke at least a little bit of spanish either out of scholarly interest or due to either past or present adventuring needs, but it still wasn’t like they could go out and about. The hospital was in the middle of nowhere and top secret. Well... it  was supposed to be agents only, but... circumstances. Regardless, most just wandered when they were bored or needed air.

It was rare when Webby would find herself alone with him. The nurse was correct. The moment she let the others in. She wanted nothing more than to wrap herself in his arms again, but the chances were slim. At least she had Scrooge there to comfort her and tell her to at least try for sleep.

She hadn’t slept since that brief five minutes when she was alone with Louie before being woken up by the nurse.  She tried her best, but she failed every time. Any shut eye she did get lasted only three minutes before she would wake up.

On the fourth day Webby found herself and Scrooge in the hospital room. Donald had claimed he needed fresh air and went to the roof, followed by Huey and Dewey saying the same. A part of Webby was suspicious of the behavior, but her senses were starting to become jumbled due to the lack of sleep so she ignored it. 

It was just her, Scrooge, and Louie in the mostly silent hospital room. 

“Have you ever been in this situation before?” Webby asked. The question had been on her mind for awhile but she didn’t know how or when to ask. 

“Della, when she was a young lass. It was an event similar to what happened to Louie here, except the other way around. Donald kidnapped, Della in a coma,” Scrooge put it simply. Webby nodded.

“I see,” she went quiet again. Her heavy eyes were barely managing to stay open any more and she was starting to see things that weren’t there. Sometimes she swore she saw his eyes flicker, but he wouldn’t wake up so it had to be her imagination. 

“...was it your fault at all?” she asked.

“I have my enemies because I have my enemies. Ye don’t ask for ‘em, they ask fer you. It’s never yeer fault,” Scrooge explained to her for what must’ve been the hundredth time. Webby knew it must’ve been annoying but the thought just wouldn’t leave. 

“Yeah...” Webby rested her head on Louie’s chest, “I just... I just can’t help but feel- well- just... a little bit guilty. Like it is my fault. It’s my enemy. It’s my career. It’s just... I don’t know. I don’t want to see him like this. I would rather die than see him like this again. I just-... what’s going to stop her from trying again?” Webby sat up and crossed her arms, looking out the window. She could feel Scrooge’s sympathetic look without looking at him. 

“Webbigail,” he took a moment and sighed, “this path does have many consequences but ye do have to realize that no matter what ye do ye will have enemies. That’s just a part of this career. Yeer granny’s worst enemy swore revenge even after she went years into retirement,” Scrooge explained. Webby stayed silent and cold. She didn’t care for his words at the moment.

"Look I... i think I'll leave ye alone for a minute. Try to get some sleep," Scrooge got up and left.

Webby looked at Louie and sighed. The tiredness was settling on her face and into her soul. She went to the window see if anyone would notice, then climbed back into the bed and wrapped one of his arms around him. She tried closing her eyes, but even though she was exhausted she still could not sleep. Not yet anyway.

"Louie," she whispered. He, of course, didn't respond. "Louie... you're gonna wake up, right?" she paused.

"No... no that's a dumb question," she brushed it aside, "Just... I'm scared Lou. I don't... i don't know how to protect you and it scares me," she held his hand. Her eyes started to feel more and more heavy.

"I'm sorry... i know its not my fault but I'm sorry. I-i know you aren't going to blame me but... I am. And I'm scared. So... do me a solid and just... stay with me. For... just a little bit longer. Thanks," she closed her eyes and fell asleep in his arms.

.o0o.

Webby joke up three hours later still in an empty hospital room. She groaned and mumbled.

"Hey Webs."

"Hey Louie," she rubbed her face and then looked her husband. His eyes were open.

Holy crap- his eyes were open! Webby nearly fell out the bed.

"Louie!!" She hugged him tightly.

"Hi- ow ow ow ow- be careful," Louie winced.

"Oh- sorry, heh," Webby sniffled and let go. The couple looked at each other and smiled and sniffled warmly. They didn't speak but they quickly hugged again. It felt so good to hear his voice again.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"Wh-what me? No no no, i should be asking you. You got really, really hurt," Webby sat up.

"You got hurt too," he frowned.

"Me? What? No. No, no, no... not... that i can think of?" Webby examinded herself.

"Your knuckles are still purple. You need to get examined," Louie pointed out.

"I got hurt, so what? You're... safe, that's all that matters to me," Webby held his uncasted hand again and kissed it.

"Webby... what happened was a nightmare... i woke up in a cold sweat and not knowing where i was or if i was alive but... you kept me grounded. Im surprised you didn't wake up," he chuckled.

"I haven't slept much the past four days heh," Webby scratched her neck.

"Wait- four days? Its Saturday already..." he buried his face in his hands.

"...It's your birthday..." Webby realized. Louie nodded.

"One hell of one eh?" She chuckled, which made Louie laugh.

"You could say that," he smiled. She smiled back, absorbing the moment. It was just... so pure and warm she couldn't stop smiling.

"I missed you," she stroked his hand.

"I know. You were cuddling quite close," he said. She snorted.

"Yeah..." Webby sighed, "i guess i should tell the others or at least the nurse the good news."

"Yeah," he nodded, "i think they deserve to know."

"I know, i know," she rolled her eyes and got up from the bed. As she went to door and looked back at him.

"You know I'm not going anywhere," he stated the obvious. Webby stuck out her tongue and laughed. She started to head out again, but she had to stop.

"Thanks... for sticking around by the way," she said.

"Anything for you Webby," he smiled tiredly. Webby went over to his bed again and kissed him on the lips.

"I love you," she said.

"Love you too," he grinned. She kissed him on the lips and headed out again.

"We will celebrate your birthdays though. You have no choice," she called to him on her way out.

Louie shook his head, laughing once again. Of course she would. If anyone could make it happen, it'd be her.

The love of his life.


	8. Dewey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dewey's side of the waiting game

Dewey had felt madness start to swirl in his mind by day four. It seemed that Webby was starting to feel contempt and more accepting of reality as the days went but everything just felt so surreal and far off. He didn't know what happened and what did.

He had gotten sleep (more than he could say for Webby), but the sleep was plagued with horrific dreams of what had happened. Yes, he had Huey and Donald, but nothing they did removed the feeling of suffocation.

But by day four, Donald and Huey noticed, and Dewey noticed them noticing, and they noticed him noticing they noticed, etcetera, etcetera.

So on day four, Dewey knew he needed to get some air. He climbed up a cold and metal stair case onto the roof of the private hospital. He could see his plane parked not too far. A part of him wanted to fly and abandon this whole situation. To get away from it all. It would've felt great to fly at least a little. He stuck his hands in his pocket and went to it when a voice called out his name.

"Dewey, what on earth do you think your doing?" Dewey clenched his fist. Huey.

"Running away? Seriously?" His voice was hurt and it was obvious he was going to cry again. Dewey turned to face him and saw Donald was there too.

"You think so little of me," Dewey glowered.

"Am I wrong?" Huey bit back.

"Boys..." Donald sighed. Dewey let his fists go.

"Why?" Huey asked him sincerely.

"Gee, lets guess. Oh yeah! Because this place is hell!" Dewey threw his hands in the air.

"So you're just going to leave him like that?" Huey argued.

"No. Of course not," Dewey rubbed his forehead. "It's complicated."

"No it's not," Huey took a step toward him. Donald stayed a silent observer. He looked at Dewey with pity in his eyes. It made him uncomfortable.

"Dewey, you are his older brother-"

"I'm barely older than him! And you're barely older than me! None of this matters! I can go home whenever i want to and forget all about this," Dewey stood his ground.

"Dewey, think about what you're saying," Donald cautioned.

"You can't just run away from this. It doesn't work that way," Huey crossed his arms.

"You don't know that," Dewey couldn't help but clenched his fists.

"Well I do," Donald spoke in.

"I know more than either of you. You can't just forget about these things and you most certainly can't just run away. Running away is never the solution. Never has been and never will be," Donald asserted.

"Dewey... just tell us what's going on in your head. You can tell us," Donald went to him and placed an arm on his shoulder. Dewey looked at the hand, then at his uncle's eye. He then glanced at Huey and shook his head, brushing his uncle's hand away.

"No, it's fine. I'm better alone anyway," Dewey said.

"Oh don't even," Huey rolled his eyes, "we all know that's not true. C'mon. Put down the facade and tell us what's wrong like a real man."

"It's never that easy," Dewey rolled his eyes in return, "you of all people should know that."

"What? Are you calling me a liar?" Huey crossed his arms.

"No, I'm saying you hide things. Just... let me go. I'm meant on my own anyway," Dewey stepped back to the plane, but Donald grabbed his arm.

"You aren't going anywhere," his voice was dark and assertive. It scared him so much the blood drained from his face.

"You are going to sit down on that bench, and you are going to tell us what is going on in your head, and you are going to tell us everything so we can help you cope and feel good, and you will not run away. Got it?" He spoke no different from an army general. Dewey nodded and Donald took him to the bench he was referring to. Huey followed.

"Now speak. I won't let you two leave until you make up," Donald stepped back.

"Look, is the 'general' or 'sergeant' whatever tone really necessary?" Dewey asked.

"Talk," he snapped. 

"Okay! Okay..." he rubbed his tired eyes ass he struggled to think of what to say. How to... describe what he saw and the agony he felt. He didn't want to be vulnerable. He wanted to be stronger than this. After all, they went to the hospital all the time. What made this one so different.

"Look Dewey... I'm sorry for being a jerk, just... tell me what's going on. I'm just worried, ya know?" Huey apologized to him. Well that was rare.

"I know," he huffed.

"I just... don't know how to describe it. It was just so... so much," Dewey closed his eyes and the image of Louie's bleeding and broken body being tossed before him appeared again. He felt his brother's hand against his arm.

"It's okay. He's gonna wake up," Huey says.

"What if he won't Huey? What if he won't?" Dewey stood. Huey stared, speechless.

"What if he never wakes up and suddenly it's just the two of us. It's just the two of us and Webby. Who would lend us money? Who would annoy us with his stupid little trademarks? Who would give us a taste in the life luxary like he always wanted? What if he never gets to properly say goodbye to us. Have you considered that Huey?"

"What if the bleeding and the abuse was just too much for him? ...No. you know what? No."

"What if he _wants_ to die?"

"Dewey you don't know th-"

"Yes i do. He told me himself."

A long, long pause.

"He didn't-"

"He said he was tired. Tired of everything. Tired of the nightmares and the hospitals and other crap he had to constantly go through. He wants to die Huey. Louie wants to die, so who's to stop him, huh?!"

Dewey completely snapped. He looked at Huey. Tears were rolling down his cheeks so quick. He looked broken. He wasn't used to that.

"D-dewey-"

He grabbed his older brother and bawled like a baby. He was quaking so terribly and his lungs stung as they heaved and gasped for breath. Dewey felt another pair of arms wrap around him and it didn't take a genius to figure it was Donald. Nobody spoke. The only sound was of tears and raw emotion. Tired hearts were exposed and shattering in an instant and in unison. Everything ached and throbbed. Nothing felt good.

Another pair of arms joined. Scrooge he assumed. Made sense. He didn't cry though. Dewey would never understand how he managed to cry so rarely.

Soon enough though, the tears and heavy breathing all came to stop. Everything had gotten out. Everything was expressed.

"Dewey," Donald spoke to him, "Louie was hurt. He didn't mean it, and even if he did... it'll be okay, okay?"

Dewey sniffled and slowly nodded, hugging Donald alone this time.

Slowly though, he heard the door creak open. They turned to all face Webby.

"Louie woke up, just so you know."

.o0o.

Somehow they all silently agreed to only go in one at a time and somehow Dewey was the first (technically second) to go see him.

"Jeez, that wasn't about me was it?" Louie referred to his brother's puffy and tear stained face.

"Har har. You're so funny," Dewey sat in the chair nearest Louie's bed.

"You know it," he spoke with such nonchalance that it stung. It was like he was pretending none of it happened.

"Yeah. Sure," Dewey shifted his weight in his chair. He didn't know what to say or do.

"...but seriously, are you okay?" Louie asked.

"Are you even aware of your situation right now?" Dewey raised his eyebrow.

"Yeah but... well... I'm the emotional one. Not you. What's wrong?" Louie asked softly.

"Well... did... did you mean it? When you... when you said you wanted to-... you know..." he avoided eye contact by looking at a framed photo of a sailboat.

"Look... I'm sorry for all of the stress and mixed emotions i might've caused you. Whatever i said back there, it's hard to recall, i didn't mean it. Okay?" Louie said. Dewey glanced at him in the eye and understood his sincerity.

"Okay," Dewey felt the weight of the world be lifted from his shoulders. Felt good.

"Good," Louie yawned.

"Are you tired already? You just slept for four days straight," Dewey questioned.

"Bah," Louie closed his eyes.

"Hold up. Before you fall asleep, you have to promise me something," Dewey stopped him and forced his eyes open. Louie frowned.

"Fine, what?" He huffed.

"Promise that you'll wake up and that if you won't i get everything you own and i have the right to call you Llewellyn whenever i feel like it," Dewey said.

"Jeez, those are some pretty high stakes," Louie chuckled, but Dewey was not joking.

"Okay, okay," Louie cleared his throat.

"Good," Dewey relaxed, "Enjoy your rest then."

"Yeah, yeah. You get some sleep too. You look like crap... and change your shirt too. Its still covered in blood," Louie pointed out.

"Right... right," Dewey hadn't noticed. Louie nodded and closed his eyes. Dewey stayed there a moment, just to reassure himself before leaving the room to find where he could get some of his own needed rest.


	9. Reality Check

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It dawns on Louie he's been here a whole week and it starts to drive him insane.

Everyone except Donald and Dewey had left the hospital on the Sunchaser by day seven for “preperations”. They acted like it was a big secret but Louie knew what was really going on. He wasn’t an idiot. 

On day seven though it dawned on him that it had been a whole week. A whole week in the hospital. The most time he had ever spent in a hospital previously was two days. A week really was something else. The thought made him numb. 

That wasn’t the worst part though. The worst part was when the nurse recommend he stay at least two more days. Louie was sick of the small hospital room. He longed for his home and his bed. He wanted a clean, soft hoodie, not an uncomfortable pale green hospital gown. He just wanted to be home and away from this awful, awful place. But we all don’t get what we want, so he stayed. 

But the longer he stayed, the more the nightmares came. Sure, they didn’t come for the first few days, but he woke up often on day four due to terrors as he slept. The worst parts was when he was alone. It would take a very, very long time to calm himself down. Even then, he could still see Turaco when he closed his eyes. 

Night eight was no different.

 _“You’re such a pretty boy. Such a shame,”_  he saw her leaning against the table, cigar in mouth and knife in hand. He would feel himself be completely powerless. At this point of the nightmare he knew it wasn’t real. He knew it was a dream, but he would never be strong enough to snap himself out of it. 

 _“You would be such a fine, good looking real man if it weren’t for this, but hey. Don’t worry. I’ll avoid the face just like you said,_ ” she would come so close and yet so far from him. Like a ghost or a holligram, she would get right close to his ear, then be in the shadows again. He would feel himself pull desperately on his retraints. He would gaze at the screens of Webby desperately searching for him. As he looked he would feel the burning stings of her slicing his wrist and arms. He would feel himself be released from the chair and tossed around by the robot guards and then attacked and stabbed by her and then tossed more until he heard his arm snap and then be kicked to the ground one last time before she came over to him in all his agony and whisper to him,

_“She’s next.”_

He shot up in bed, as he had all those days before. He was covered in sweat and breathing heavily. His mind flashed through the images and he would almost relive the experience yet again. The beeping of the machine was pounding in his ears and echoed through his body. He tried to focus on where he was and what was really happening, but the sense of panic and horror would refuse to leave his body. But suddenly all of the vivid images would leave his mind as quickly as they had entered and his mind would go blank. 

He looked to his right and saw a familiar, strong hand on his shoulder.

“U-uncle Donald,” Louie’s face went red, embarrassed. 

“Are you okay?” his voice was like the seas after the storm had passed. Calm and unwavering. It was the same voice he was used to when he was scared as a kid. 

“Y-yeah,” he lied. He still wasn’t okay. He was shivering and his sweat was cold and uncomfortable. Plus his chest and lungs hurt.  Donald sat on his bed and held his hand. 

“Are you okay?” he looked him in the eyes. Louie shifted and said yes again, but Donald asked a third time.

“Are you okay?”

Louie didn’t respond that time. His reaction was basically an affirmation to all of Donald’s suspicions and he went and hugged Louie. 

“It’s going to be okay. You will make it past this,” he said. Louie shook his head. Donald sighed and put a hand to his cheek. Louie leaned into it, but he was still shaking. Donald sat next to him on his bed and Louie layed in his lap. Donald stroked his feathers.

“But what if it doesn’t?” Louie asked.

“It will Louie. Trust me. The nightmares end. All of the images of what happened, the emotions, all of the memory goes away. It just... takes awhile,” he spoke with such reassurance it made Louie wonder if he ever had bad enough memories to keep him up at night. He asked about it. Donald sighed. 

“You know I served my fair time in the navy,” was all he had to say for Louie to understand. Perspective was suddenly added to all of his childhood. Donald truly did know what he was talking about. It added a new level of comfort. Louie grabbed his uncle’s hand.

“Well... I’m glad you’re here then. It’d be a lot more scary without you,” Louie said. Donald chuckled. 

“Yeah, I’m glad you’re here too,” Donald smiled softly, which made Louie do the same. Smile. Those were rare these days. 

“Well, you made it Lou. We’re going home today,” Donald stood and started to gather what things were a mess in the room and put them in a pile. Louie’s face lit up. 

“Oh yeah! It is,” he sat up. “Good thing I’m a lazy person. Except for the fact that my arm is broken, laying around for a few weeks sounds great."

“Yup. Back home it is for you,” Donald gave a cheeky grin. 

“Back to my hoodies, my bed, my phone, my house, everything,” Louie relaxed at the thought. 

“Back to the same old, same old,” Donald continued to tidy up. 

Ah, the same old, same old. That’d be nice. Though it wouldn’t be right away. He knew there was a party awaiting him at home and probably more nightmares to come, but he wasn’t alone. He never truly was, and besides, all things do come to some sort of end. This party would be just the beginning. 


	10. Haunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-traumatic stress disorder 
> 
> A condition of persistent mental and emotional stress occuring as a result of injury or severe physiological shock, typically involving a disturbance of sleep and constant vivid recall of the experience

The plane ride home was calm and safe. Finally, Louie was free of all those stupid machines and sounds. Breathing truly fresh air felt fantastic. He was finally free.

Or at least, he should've been.

When he had prepared to leave, the hospital gave him a stitched up and not blood soaked version of his favorite sweatshirt. It felt surreal to see it again. He knew he would never be able to wear it again after this. It was simply too horrendous to see.

When he went to put it on he got a good look at all of his scars and stitches in the mirror. Looking at it made memories come flooding in his mind and he would start to panic and feel horror and dread run through his body until, after a long, _long_ while, it went away.

So the plane ride was nice. It was calm, unreminding, and he had his uncle Donald there and a party waiting for him at home. It would be fun and fine... if he managed to keep himself awake for the next six hours on a plane ride with nothing to keep your mind off of things but Uncle Donald.

He was fine. 

Totally fine... right?

Right...

"We'll be home in five minutes," Dewey called to the back where Louie was playing i-spy with himself and Donald was trying to get something unstuck from his seat but failing miserably. Donald and Louie nodded as they gave up what they were doing and put their seatbelts on and waited for their distention.

"It's so weird how i don't remember even flying there..." Louie thought out loud.

"I hope you don't. Less memories, the better," Donald replied. His posture was stiff. He never was comfortable with plane landings. It made Louie think.

Eventually they landed (and without crash) and they were able to step out into McDuck Manor. The place had not a single light on and the landing area seemed abandoned. It made Louie uneasy, but he pushed it aside when he felt his Uncle's unwavering grip on his shoulder.

He followed Donald through the dark manor until they reached the main staircase. He sighed and turned on the lights when suddenly dozens of people jumped out of hiding places and shouted,

" **SURPRISE!!!** "

He stepped back. An intense wave of fear crashed over him. The room started to spin. He felt like he was going to throw up. He tried to blink it away but Turaco was there with her eerie little smile. His whole body was shaking, he couldn't catch his breath and his heart began to pound out of his chest. People suddenly swarmed him. He heard voices speak to him but the english slipped right past him. He heard his Webby's concerned and lovely voice but it all felt so distant. He heard his Uncle's voice cut hers off. He felt someone touch him and he jerked away. His vision became so blurred except when he closed his eyes because Turaco was sharp as ever in his mind. His mind told him to step back so that's what he did. He stepped back, and back, and back and back. He closed his eyes tightly, pushing all of those cursed memories away from him but he soon became overwhelmed, collapsing to his knees in sobs. He sobbed, and sobbed and sobbed. All of his scars and burns and stitches and his cast throbbed and throbbed. All other emotions were shut down and all he could feel was panic and terror.

He felt someone touch him and he jumped back, but found himself against the wall. He looked through watery eyes and saw it was Donald, along with Webby behind him. He was offering his hand and she was standing nervously behind him. Louie shook his head and put his knees to his chest and sobbed into them. Donald turned around and said something to the others and he heard the shuffle of feet exiting the room.

"Louie," words suddenly became clearer. It was Webby who spoke. She put her arm out to touch him but Donald stopped her. She looked at Donald and he signaled to let him handle it for the moment. She agreed stepped back.

"Louie, it's me. Your Uncle Donald. I'm here to tell you it isn't real. It's a memory. You are safe and you are in control. Do you hear me?" His voice was like calm waves lapping over the sand on a calm summer sunset.

"Louie, listen to me: you are safe, you are home, you are with family who loves you, and you are not alone." Louie calmed his sobs, but his body still throbbed and trembled.

"Louie, i want you to breathe with me. Can you do that for me?" Donald asked oh so tenderly. Louie bobbed his head yes, but then no. Donald continued with the practice anyway, taking in deep breaths through his nose, then pausing, then releasing through his mouth. Louie copied the motion and felt his tension release, but the sense of danger in his chest was still there, nagging. But as his vision cleared he was greeted with the two most loving and patient faces he could imagine.

"Louie...?" Webby's voice wavered with overwhelming concern for her husband. Her hand was on her wedding ring and twisting it anxiously. She was checking to see if he was all there. He wanted to be, _oh god_ he wanted to be, but he wasn't.  Danger was still in his mind and bones. He looked at Donald and saw the face of true courage and steadiness. He continued to breathe and eventually, slowly but surely, he tired the emotion out and it left him. It left him with... nothing.

His legs and arms felt like led and yet had pins and needles. His face felt heavy, yet light at the same time. He was exhausted.

"Are you okay?" Donald asked. Louie didn't know how to answer. He felt like a shell of a being. He felt his throat tighten as he tried to form words. It was a lot harder than it should've been so he nodded a little.

"Do you need water?" He asked. Louie bobbed his head in agreement. Webby nodded at someone (Beakly, he assumed) and the focus went back to him.

"It's okay Louie. You're home, and safe, and in control," Donald spoke the comforting words again. He felt something inside him tingle. He wasn't sure what it was. Soon enough, he was handed a glass of water and he drank the whole thing down quickly. It helped a lot to revive his spirits.

"Feel better?" Webby spoke this time.

"Y-yeah," Louie found it within himself to speak. Webby's anxiety seemed to calm a bit more. Her smile turned more warm than concerned. It was like honey for his eyes. It made him want to smile too.

"Are you tired?" Donald asked. Louie tried to do a body scan for tiredness but he didn't feel _tired_ tired. Sure, his face and eyes felt heavy but the inside of his body still rang like a hollow shell.

"No," he decided.

"Hungry?" Donald asked. Louie agreed that food might feel really good right about now. Webby nodded again and a few moments later he was handed a sandwich from the party that should've been happening in here. Guilt washed over him.

"I-i shouldn't have ruined the party for you guys," Louie tried to stand himself up but fell over for Donald to catch.

"Louie, don't say such a thing. It was my fault, really," Webby sighed, "i should've known not to throw a surprise party. It's too much too soon."

"Don't beat yourselves up," Donald told them both, "you didn't ruin anything and it's not your fault, okay?" That was directed at Louie. He nodded robotically as he took a bite of the sandwich. It was really good. Like... really really good. He nodded again, less robotic though. Donald took his arm softly and guided him to the tv room and lied him down.

"Now, you need to get some rest. If you need us, we'll be right here waiting for you. If you have a nightmare, we are right here when you wake up. You got it?" Donald said. Louie nodded once again. He slumped down onto the couch and Webby placed a blanket over him. It was cozy. Maybe he was tired after all.

"You want me to be here?" Webby asked. Louie nodded and patted his side. She smiled tiredly.

"Alright, I'll try to cuddle," she rolled her eyes playfully and got close to him. The numbness washed away. Her body was so warm and soft against his. Her heart beat in rhythm it his own. It was relaxing and reassuring. Slowly, his eyes closed and he felt himself go to sleep.

.o0o.

He awoke to Webby still asleep on his chest. Donald on his phone in the corner and the sound of party goers outside the room. It must not have been too long, but when he checked his phone three hours had passed. Dewey must've insisted the party continue. Louie chucked at the thought.

He sat up as he felt Webby stir. He set her head down on a pillow and slowly ascended from the couch.

"You're awake," Donald looked up from his phone. Louie nodded. "Are you okay?" Louie repeated his action.

"Do you want to join the others?" Donald asked. Louie pondered it and slowly nodded. No need to let a panic throw off the whole celebration. He should be with his brothers. Partying. Well... maybe not full on partying but he knew what he meant. Webby got up behind him.

"I'll stay with him," she held his hand. Louie smiled warmly at her. Her loyalty never ceased to amaze him. Donald nodded and quickly combed Louie's hair before he went out to greet his guests like nothing ever happened.

As he walked out he was greeted by many familiar faces young and old. He walked through the halls and many wished him a happy birthday and wishes for good health. He accepted them graciously and continued on his way to find his brothers. Those were who he was really looking for.

It didn't take long though. Dewey's voice seemed like it had a permanent loud speaker to it at parties so he was naturally gravitated toward it. He walked outside the pool and saw he was about to attempt a flip off the roof and into the pool. The crowd that had gathered seemed to be made of people at least a little bit tipsy, which felt natural for a crowd of Dewey fans. Webby and Louie stood in the back and saw him run and surprisingly make it into the pool as the crowd cheered. As he got out of the pool, Louie and Webby went to greet him and Dewey hugged the both of them tightly.

"It's good to see you up and out! I thought for sure you were just gonna nap through it like a lameo," Dewey smiled, but Louie knew better than to assume he was being insensitive.

"Yeah, yeah, i worry about you too," he slugged his brother's shoulder with the uncasted hand. Dewey laughed.

"That's my bro for you," he made the crowd laugh.

"Sorry, but I'm gonna go get a towel. See you at the cake in five," Dewey waved off and left. His crowd was obviously displeased, but not whiny as they dispersed, though some did jump in the pool themselves.

Huey was a lot harder to find since he never really was "the life of the party" in the way Dewey was so they had to search harder.

Eventually though, they found him with a clipboard in hand counting the snacks lime the nerd he was.

"Huey, you do realize you will not have an exam on the number of crackers left on your finals right?" Louie teased. Huey jumped and looked at them.

"Hey! Louie! You're okay! That's relief," a tension released from his brothers shoulders.

"I'm so sorry we made it a surprise. It was a really, really bad idea and I'm surprised we didn't see why it was a bad idea, but do not fear. I have changed everything i possibly could to make it not remind you of... you know what. The music is calm and not intense, no horror movies are going on, and i got rid of all knives to make this as enjoyable as possible. I even got rid of the candles for the cake," Huey gave a classic cheeky yet apologetic grin.

"Huey, you don't have to do that. I'm fine," Louie laughed.

"Well... maybe you think that but you dont knoww," Huey wasn't easily persuaded.

"If he says he want's candles, then he wants candles. He can handle it," Webby was on his side. Huey slowly nodded and jotted something down on his clipboard.

"Alright, see you at the cake in... two minutes. Gotta run," Huey blasted off into the kitchen and Webby and Louie shared a good laugh. That was Huey for you.

"Should we head off to the cake and be early for once?" Louie asked.

"It would be a funny reversal if you were there early and the other two were late," Webby agreed so the couple headed off.

Eventually the two minutes passed, everyone came to see the candles be blown out but Huey and Dewey were late. Louie couldn't help but smirk as he saw them shuffle in with excuses and apologies.

"Tisk, tisk, tisk. I expected more from you two," he snarked.

"Har dee har har," Dewey rolled his eyes, "like you're sooooooooOOOoOooo perfect."

"I am," Louie smirked as Donald lit the candles and the crowd began to sing happy birthday. Louie looked out amongst the faces and soaked them all in. He saw Fenton Crackshell woth Li'l Bulb who was singing the song in morse code. He saw Manny, stomping it with his hooves. He saw someone who he assumed was Goldie because she always snuck herself into these things. He saw colleagues and friend he had met and befriended and/or tricked over the years. Donald's words rang through his head.

" _You aren't alone_."

He was right. 

The song ended and the three brothers blew out the candles and the crowd cheered. Louie looked at their happy faces and smiled.

He wasn't alone. 


End file.
